The Difference
by Labryinth013
Summary: A girl who can see when people die ends up at the Wayne Manor. It's evident she doesn't belong there: she's different. Join her as she tries to find some sort of way she can feel belonged, and needed in her new family. Rating may change later, reviews and ratings required for chapter update. This will be Ocx various, so if you don't like that, don't bother reading.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own batman, the batman series, or anything from dc at all. All I own is my OC, who is widely based off myself, though not completely.

There is some Oocness in this story.

Story will contain explicit language, suggestive content (the rating may change later) and very grim themes.

_ A voice said, Look me in the stars_  
_And tell me truly, men of earth,_  
_If all the soul-and-body scars_  
_Were not too much to pay for birth. _

_Robert Frost_

**The Differences**

The difference between me and them was many things really. Of course, we had a lot in common as well, but I didn't see these things. And for what? Because _he didn't see them. None of them saw them. _So, neither would I. I could live in a world of make believe if I so wished to, and it was no different from what they did. They put on the masks, the capes, ran off into the middle of the night, and came back at lights wake. He was the caped crusader, and they were his fledglings. He was to be my new father, and they, my brothers. One might expect to live a nice happy life when coming to live in such riches, when coming to live with a family who, yes, had their problems, but loved each other none the less. But that wasn't the case for me. I might have let myself ponder the reason as to why when I first moved to the Wayne manor, but the answer was so blatant, that I need only to ponder it but a nanosecond before I shut it out, or at least, I told myself I shut it out. They were the differences after all.

* * *

The story doesn't start with my coming to the Wayne manor though, or maybe it does, but in any case, there has to have been a way, a reason to as why I came to the Wayne manor at all, doesn't there. The story isn't a very happy one, but life isn't a very happy thing now is it, or fair. No, it's not fair at all. It's the same as when you have your first fight with your mother, or maybe, your 200th or maybe your 2,00,000th. It gets to that climatic moment where you eventually shout "I hate you!," and she retaliates with "I gave birth to you, you ungrateful little b*tch!" In truth though, is it so righteous to take pride in bringing an innocent soul into such a miserable world? Is it so good to expect something to love you unconditionally for you doing nothing but having brought it _here? _And then, there's the fact that one often doesn't take into regard, that now they have another soul to take into consideration when talking, when partaking in any sort of action, when making decisions that effect not only oneself anymore. But that's off topic. This merely being an example of what is fair and what isn't. In the case of the first fight with your mother, it isn't fair to have the fact that one person is the reason for your being thrown into your face. In my case, it wasn't fair that my whole family died at a family gathering. That's to put it bluntly, but I would rather not really get into too much detail about it, not just yet anyways. I'm too far enjoying my detached state at the moment thank you.

I'll give the few basic details to which you need though, to which I myself am fortunate enough of possessing, to further this story. And yes, the story will be told in a very cliche manner.

I was born. I grew up. My family life wasn't good at all, yet I held some sort of affection for each individual of my family. I showed it not often, for none of us did, and there were more acts of physical hatred to one another than those of love. And yet, for us, it was normal, it was our love, and no one doubted that yes, indeed, there was love. There was only one person I showed affection towards and genuin- no, I'll stop there. That's another story for another day. Anyways, I had a lot of family problems, to which, like most family problems, my parents were the source of. My father being a drug addict with mental disorders, and my mother being a clingy psychopath, the money situation in our family wasn't stable at all, nor were the living arrangements, and we often were out in the cold. There was no signs of love or affection, only hatred, and yet, there was a subtle under layer that hinted at such. Maybe it showed in the way that there was always anger when one of us was missing, this anger, was merely a sign of worry really, and to worry you had to love right? But that was life growing up, and it was always up and down. Finally, when I was a teenager, my parents started getting their act together. My dad quit drugs, got a steady off and on job (construction work) and my mother getting a job as a receptionist for a dental office. Of course, things were still crazy at home, and I mean the type of crazy that people went to jail for, but like I said, I held some sort of affection for that type of life, it was the only life I ever knew.

But it was my father's drug addiction, or rather, source of drugs that would be our undoing. Even after he quit, it was known that the source of his income of drugs came from my uncle, and discreet as they were, I can remember as a child going to my uncle's house, watching them exchange something I wasn't sure what, and then my father snorting something. I never learned what it was, even to this day I don't know, but I know now that it was indeed a drug, and is what caused his erratic behavior, his mental instability. Well, we were to go to a family reunion.

Before I go any further, let me share a secret with you. See sometimes, or lines, or _things._ They're really ugly things these things, and they can talk and move and are way stronger and creepier looking than regular people. But back to the lines and numbers, well, they mean something. The numbers, they let me know when people are suppose to die. I know because once, I saw a man whose numbers were for that day, like he was going to die that day. At first, I was curious as to the numbers that were etched and seemingly silvery transparent looking on the middle of individuals bodies. But when the man collapsed, his numbers floated off his body, and then a big black shadow went to retrieve them. Crazy right? I tried to tell my parents what I saw, and really, I was hoping I was crazy. They thought I was, but you know how Mexicans are. Superstitious and all that. They simply thought a demon was loose in our house, and they weren't too far from the truth, but even so, their was of fixing it was just us going to church more. I never mentioned it again after that.

I noticed something else. My numbers, were always fluctuating, and that black shadow, it followed me an awful lot. Apparently, I wasn't suppose to be able to see the numbers, and for this, many a time did I almost meet with death. Sometimes it took form in me almost stepping out in front of a speeding car, or almost getting hit by falling heavy materials. But even so, I somehow managed to avoid death. The shadow never confronted me with this knowledge, with the fact that I shouldn't be able to see what I did, yet, I always knew what it wanted to say to me. As for the lines, well, they were rare. See, if you were to die by murder, then the line linked you to who that murderer would be. Sometimes, the lines were red instead of black, and this red line tied two people destined to be together, well, together. I didn't care for those though, they only ever really showed themselves when the two people were close to each other, and they often missed each other too.

Anyways, the day of the reunion, my numbers were fluctuating a hell of a lot. And not only that, my families numbers, well, I tried to never look at their numbers. I didn't want to know when they were going to die. Hell, who would? But their numbers had changed, without me noticing it. We were going to die today. And as much as I begged, pleaded, and persisted my parents for us to stay home, . . . . They didn't want to hear my crap about numbers.

Back to my uncle. See, he was a pretty big drug distributor. And of course, he had made enemies, and of course, said enemies were watching him. During the day of the family reunion, one rival drug lord had his men follow the families as they made their way to the reunion. I know this because it was in the police report read to me later on after the explosion. Yes, the explosion. For whatever reason, the fact that my uncle was going to be the one responsible for so many deaths, and we were a lot, must have put joy into their hearts. And I mean aunts, uncles, grandma's, grandpa's, babies for crying out loud. See, I was mad at my mom for something that she said, so I walked around the park, we were having the reunion at the park, and as I was coming back, I felt a wave of debris and air hit me, along with some sort of heat. Then everything was dark, and I heard the soft agitation of that shadow, which was my indication, that yes, I was still alive. But, there was a ringing in my head, a kind of alarm, that told me things would not be okay. Because there was so much noise, so many shouts, so many people crying. And gun shots, lots and lots of gun shots. People screaming, sirens in the distance, and for whatever reason, I was alive, yet dead at the same time. I was dead, yet alive. Only one name raced through my mind. _Nadaly.  
_I wasn't thinking anymore then. Slowly, I lost the battle with the slumber that was my salvation from time, time that it would take to realize what happened, time that would make me lose myself.

* * *

"She's waking up" a deep voice noted. A relieved sigh escaped from a pair of lips, the opposite apparently.

"Labyrinth?" the same deep voice asked. A bright light blinded me as I opened my eyes. Everything was white, then fuzzy images surfaced, and finally, clarity. A man with red hair and nice brown eyes framed by a thick pair of glasses stared at me. A long brown trench coat adorned his build body, his faced aged gracefully with a wrinkle here and there. Underneath the brown eyes though, was a hollowness, a look that came from seeing too much failure, and there was also something dejected about them. But one could tell he was a strong man. Pain sky rocketed through me as I tried to utter some words, but my mouth was dry, and no words came out. So I merely blinked my dark eyelashes at the man, hoping he'd understand it as that I was attentive. He did.

"My name is commissioner Gordon. I head the Gotham Police Department" I had heard of Gotham before, somewhere in the east coast wasn't it? Or maybe the north? Either way, it was far from sunny California, my home to which I loved dearly, even if I couldn't stand the heat most of the time. Which brought me to the question, what the hell was I doing in Gotham?

"I know you've gone through a lot Ms. Deleon, but I just want you to know that you're okay now, and I know it's going to be tough, but you'll get through this" his voice was apologetic somehow, and even with the gentle edge to his voice, there was a toughness to it. This man was the commissioner, and if was understandable that he probably was always on edge, but even more so, that he had lost some type of ability to truly empathize with victims. Of course, he was addressing me as my name now, but when I left the room, I'd turn into 'the victim' or 'the girl who survived' or something along those lines. And I wasn't damn stupid either. I knew, from the moment that dark shadow showed signs of agitation, that there was also signs of triumph. He won over me somehow.

"You were the only survivor" he breathed out. It didn't startle me. It should have, I should have been balling my eyes out, because it wasn't as if I didn't love them, it wasn't as if I wasn't secretly praying to a god I didn't believe in that somehow Nadaly was okay and alive. But I didn't react other than letting my eyes drop some, then looking back up to meet his gaze. He held my stare, as an adult, but I knew he still didn't see me as such. He was merely treating me as such because he was afraid I'd be upset otherwise. I knew, the way he looked at me, that he pitied me, and while it wasn't rude nor a crime to pity someone, I saw it, and I didn't care for it. I was suddenly aware that I couldn't move, not my head, not my body. I had never been so curious before in my life. What did I look like at the moment? Surely I was a wreck. How badly had I been hurt? What was going to happen to me now? I was only sixteen, maybe they'd put me in an orphanage? It wasn't like I had any family left now, nowhere to go. And how was I going to arrange the funerals. My head began to swim, and for once, I felt overwhelmed. More than anything, I was angry. How dare I be left alone to fend for myself, without so much as a sorry from the supposed supreme making my life miserable. It was amusing, thinking such ludicrous thoughts. They saved me, such maddening thoughts, from my own true madness.

The door opened then. Another man walked in. He had jet black hair, and icy blue eyes, cold eyes they were, but there was a light of understanding in them, and again, for once in my life, I wanted his eyes to hold me. I wanted so many things in that moment, when I felt his understanding, and I knew somehow, I wanted things that I would never have. The man was of a thickish lean physique, his face handsomely aged, not like the ginger police officer in the room, but he appeared to be in his early thirties maybe? Who knew, maybe he was older. He walked over to the bed, looked kindly down at me, sorrow and there, that understanding in his eyes.

"Mr. Bruce Wayne was a friend of your uncle's" the commissioner simply explained. The man, Mr. Wayne, nodded his head at the man briefly before turning to me.

"I was on my way to the reunion. Your uncle invited me, but my plane had been delayed earlier, so I was running late. The sight when I got there...I'm so sorry" Mr. Wayne said, sincerity showing in his ice blue eyes. I was becoming wary of him subconsciously then, I'm still not sure why. Maybe it was because I'm a paranoid person by nature, or because the saying goes, don't trust people with cold eyes, or maybe, it was because I was scared. I never opened myself to even my family, and I never cared to. But right now, I could see the dangers. "For the time being, I'll take care of you're living arrangements, if you don't mind. It's the least I could do. If only, if only I had been there" he seemed to apologize. And there it was. My fear in the living flesh. What if, I grew attached to this man, and the life he gave me? A couple of things could happen. I could be given back, which wouldn't be so bad honestly. But what if I wasn't given back, what if I got attached, what if it was one sided? I hated being weak, had never shown such weakness, yet I felt my weakness growing with the second. And yet, I let myself be engulfed by my curiosity, and once again, I merely blinked my eyelashes in response. The corners of his lips moved upwards ever so slightly.

"I'll make the arrangements then" and with those few blunt words, so devoid of emotion or spark that he had shown earlier, that gruff of tone, that I knew he wasn't who he said he was, or who he appeared to be, and he walked out with the commissioner quick behind him. Yes, he was Bruce Wayne, but not really. I was oddly okay with it though, it fed my curiosity like a burning flame, and I was enthralled. I think now, it was my way of coping, of forgetting what happened. It doesn't matter, because nothing could have prepared me for what happened. Or rather, what didn't happen.

* * *

Outside of the victims hospital room, the two men talked in hushed whispers. One was going over the details of the legal arrangements that had to be made, the other was going over his report of what had happened.

"It doesn't make any sense. I arrive on scene, and not only are the victims lying dead, but the mobsters are too. There wasn't any evidence of their being a third party involved at the scene" the commissioner shared with the man. "Good thing Batman arrived when he did, or the girl might have not of made it either."

The dark knight, now in disguise as Bruce Wayne nodded his head sympathetically."It's a shame. So many children are suffering losses like these nowadays. I've never heard of a case where the whole family...well, you know Jim" he said, his voice somber. In his mind, he was analyzing the situation and what needed to be done. It was true, he knew her uncle, but not really. He knew he was a drug dealer, and was exporting his goods across the nation, and to various parts of Latin America too. A case had led him from his home in Gotham to the sunny south of California, a very drastic change of scenery. He had been planning on stopping an exchange that was suppose to take place, a tip he had received from an insider. He planned to expose the drug dealer, yet, even he couldn't for see the events that took place that day. In the end, he couldn't save the hundreds of people that died, there was no drug exchange, and he couldn't give, he knew, truly give this ordinary girl what she would need.

The commissioner walked back into the girl's room now, checking up on her if he heard correctly. He himself made his way to the top of the hospital building, where, he dialed the boy wonder's number. "It's me. How do you feel about having a sister Tim?"

-END, for now.

* * *

**Review and Rate for a new chapter. Let me know what you thought**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Batman, the batman series, anything that has to do with batman or any other d.c character. All I own is my OC.

Thank you for the one review that I asked for (: This time around, I'd like at least two before I post the next chapter. It's nice to have some motivation to keep righting.

These things are hard to get out though really u.u I'm finding that I'm going over the thousands marks, without really writing anything that I want to get through :/

For clarification purposes Labyrinth is 16, Tim is 17, Jason is 19, Richard is 21. Bruce is 33.

* * *

_ I have been one acquainted with the night._  
_I have walked out in rain - and back in rain._  
_I have out-walked the furthest city light._

_I have looked down the saddest city lane._  
_I have passed by the watchman on his beat_  
_And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain._

_I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet_  
_When far away an interrupted cry_  
_Came over houses from another street,_

_But not to call me back or say good-bye;_  
_And further still at an unearthly height,_  
_A luminary clock against the sky_

_Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right._  
_I have been one acquainted with the night. _

_Robert Frost_

* * *

It was released in the newspaper relatively quickly. A massacre of family in southern California, a sole survivor being taken in by a friend of the family. What was especially of interest to most people, was that this friend of the family was Bruce Wayne, notorious playboy billionaire from Gotham city. With his help, the case that would have been left to local authorities was allowed to be collaborated on between the L.A police department and the Gotham police department. This was due to the fact that apparently, the rival drug lord resided in Gotham, and when the victims uncle started exporting his goods into Gotham, the drug lord evidently felt threatened. The story and the details of the story were really quite interesting.

Almost everything was interesting, except for the survivor. The girl had come from a Mexican family, her parents were immigrants, her mother illegal, her father having gained his citizenship at the age of twenty two. She was a Hispanic girl, but she was pale, so she passed the American beauty standards, and so, people empathized that, indeed, she was a poor little thing. Their sympathy only went that far though. Nobody cared for the little nobody, the little nobody that came from Mexican immigrants, who wasn't part of a sports team, wasn't part of any club, had average grades, who had no friends, and thus, nobody cared.

But somebody did care. _He _cared. Well, he said he did, and in those icy blue eyes, there was truth. Yes, he did care, because he himself had lost everything. He himself died with along with his parents all those years ago. In this, they were the same. And yet they were different, but maybe just maybe, he needed this difference, this change as much as she did. Or it'd be their undoing. Most likely the latter. All she knew was that she needed the difference, the change that he offered.

* * *

I woke up again. This time it wasn't as painful as the rest of the times. On the contrary, I felt better than I had in weeks. From the explosion that took place on that day, I had a concussion that was already gone now, a few broken ribs that with the treatment issued healed, and not to mention the surgery it took to get a piece of metal that was lodged in my stomach out. Yeah, good times. Mr. Wayne visited me several times. The first time he came, it was with the commissioner. I don't think the guy felt quite comfortable yet being alone with me. The commissioner came once too by himself. I asked about Mr. Wayne, and the commissioner just told me that the man was known to adopt orphaned young boys. Young boys. No wonder the poor man was having such a hard time getting over here by himself. Having all boys is easier than making conversation with a teenage girl, that's for sure. I asked the commissioner a lot of questions, to both mine and his surprise. I think now, it was a distraction. I felt a void in myself, a hole left from the people that were suppose to be with me, leaving me all alone.

The second time Mr. Wayne came, he came by himself. I woke up to him stroking my ebony locks, and when he noticed that I had indeed woken up, he offered me a small smile of embarrassment that came from having been caught by me. I couldn't help but smile back. He asked me how I was, and I told him I was fine, alive. He said he could relate. We sat for a while in silence, and it was a nice type of silence. I was too shy then to ask him anything about himself. I knew he had other sons, two which were alive. The one I was interested was the one that had passed away though. It's one thing to loose your parents, but another to lose your child. But then it was too cruel on part to ask such a thing of him, simply to please my own curiosity.

Around the fifth or sixth time he came to see me, he seemed to be in the swing of things. He'd come in with a gift or two, they usually came in the form of sweets or something I could eat, and then we'd make talk. He'd ask me how I was, then ask about what my family was like. It was pretty awkward when he asked those questions, because here was one difference. I loved my family, I knew they had loved me, and yet, we were so far beyond dysfunctional. He had come from a loving family, a truly normal loving family. He couldn't possibly comprehend all my struggles, all I had to endure. He didn't know what it was like to see your father beat your mother, or what it was like to have your mother wrap her hands around your neck in an attempt to choke you. He didn't know what it was like to be called a little b*tch, or what it was like to be left starving for days on end. He didn't know what it was like to have to try and find some way to feed your little brothers and sisters, or what it was like to give up on a god you wished to exist. He simply didn't know. But he tried to understand, to empathize, he really did. I knew he felt my sorrow when I dug into my tales of grief, and even if they weren't similar to his own, tales of grief always dig up other tales of grief. I could see him remembering, every little thing that had ever caused him pain, and he hurt, as I was hurting now. He'd share with me a story or two about a time when he hurt. The first one was when his son left to college. He said he knew it was for his own good, but he hated to see his son go, like any other parent would. I felt it was something deeper then. The pain I saw in his eyes when he spoke about his son Richard leaving, there was more to it than what he was letting on.

He asked about school a lot too, to my embarrassment. I was a nobody for sure in school, and from what I've heard from commissioner Gordon, the nurses that took care of me, or even from what I read on the internet (Mr. Wayne bought me a laptop so I'd have something to do in bed, neat huh?) Mr. Wayne was definitely always somebody, and was even so during his high school years. What added to my embarrassment was the fact that his sons lived up to his legacy, Richard having moved to Bloodhaven and becoming a cop (after receiving many credentials at Gotham University mind you), and Tim being regarded as a child genius (apparently he had a big noggin or something). I told him straight out that I was your average student. I got A's in most every subject, but that was all hard work, not genius, not to mention my test grades were C's and B's. I was especially horrible in math and science, I was alright in English and history, but I didn't care for those subjects. The only subject I ever really liked was French, and that was because it was the only time I got to learn about somewhere where I wasn't. Most kids were from Latin blood also (hello people, it's California) and were damn proud of it. I on the other hand, wanted something beyond what my heritage gave me, and it wasn't as if I was ashamed of it either, because as soon as I'm referred to as that 'white girl' my head whips around with an 'excuse me, I'm Hispanic.' I simply didn't want to be like all the ignorant kids who didn't care to know anything other than what they grew up with. Because I did not want to have nothing all my life. I was from nothing, and if I was to be proud of nothing and stick with nothing my whole life, well now, you get the point.]

I remember best the conversation we had the last time he came to see me. He came in as usual, this time he had some type of cell phone to give me. I liked it when he brought me gifts, I really did, but my upbringing and pride also made me hate it. I knew I came from nothing, but whenever he brought me things I was reminded of it, and I hated to think that he saw me as a charity case.

"I can't accept this" I told him adamantly, the way I always did.

"I'd like you to be able to get a hold of me. If something happens where you don't feel comfortable here, or if you just need someone to talk to, I'd like you to be able to reach me" he stated smoothly. He probably went over this scenario in his head already, because it was nothing new now really. It was routing whenever he came.

"Mr. Wayne, I can't. It wouldn't be right. I don't like to be simply given things. At least let me earn it once I'm out of here. Speaking of which, you wouldn't happen to know when that is would you?" The corners of his lips tugged upwards again, and there was that glint in his icy eyes again. They reminded me of crystals, or rather, water drops when they catch the light. My heart ached whenever I thought of his eyes, because no matter how much he looked at me, no matter how kind he was towards me, I always felt like he was looking through me, or he wasn't focused on me, and that thought itself made me hate myself. I hated how weak I had become. I hated how much I felt that I needed this man's attention. Surely I had never felt this way before, and it was preposterous to me that I would do so now.

"It is perfectly alright. The fact that you have such high morals and expectations of yourself is reason enough for me to give it to you. And it still stands, I'd like you to have it for emergency reasons, which is perfectly understandable. And you'll be released in two days time" he finished.

"So I'll be a hospital graduate then I suppose."

An amused smile crossed his face."Let's be thankful that you're going to be one."

"Are you saying you don't think I could have graduated? Thanks. Really, I appreciate your believing in me. Should I mention you in my speech?"

"Since when did you get so cheeky? And I'm sure to give a graduation speech, you'd have to be selected to do so."

"Oh, so now you're saying you don't think I'd be chosen to give the speech. Well, I suppose I don't meet the criteria for such. And I don't know really. I suppose I'm getting comfortable enough to mouth off to you Mr. Wayne. It's not too late now you know. You can still runaway now" I said. It was half jokingly, but some of me meant it really. I was a pain in my parent's asses, I'm sure I'd be a pain in his ass too. It was better that I let him know sooner than later what he was taking in, because I really didn't want to be given back later. And it was true, _I really was getting comfortable._

His smile was wary now, but he still held that look of amusement in his eyes. "Labyrinth, I'm don't think I could turn back now if I tried" it came out as a whisper, but there was so much of his truth in his voice, like there always was, and for a moment, I didn't know if I'd be able to handle such truth all the time."I want you, if you'll have me that is. And that brings me to a question I've been meaning to ask you. See, I told you I'd let you stay with me, but that was a partial lie" I felt my eyes widen. I didn't actually expect him to give me back, not really. I wanted something good in my life, and I wanted him. I sucked in a breath and bit my lips. Well, what could I expect really. I wouldn't want me, and it wasn't his responsibility to take care of me. He seemed to read my thoughts, and next thing I knew, he was next to me, taking my hands in his. "How would you like to become my daughter?" he asked.

It hit me hard. I could only stare at the man in front of me as a million thoughts entered my mind. I wanted his attention, I would be fine with anybody's attention at the moment, but it was him that offered it to me first, it was him that I expected it from now as horrible as it was, as needy as it was, as weak and unlike myself as it all was. But was I ready for a new family? I couldn't even think of life without my own dysfunctional family, thus I never let myself get around to truly thinking about them yet, I couldn't think that when I left this room, Nadaly wouldn't be waiting for me. My hands gripped the cover that was around myself, and I had unconsciously taken to staring down at the covers as I felt my eyes start to tighten with moisture. My body was heaving as I wouldn't let myself cry in front of this man. I wanted to be a part of his family, I wouldn't deny that realization, yet, I hated myself for wanting that comfort. I wanted to let myself sink to the pits of hell and wallow in my pain and anger, so that I'd never forget them. It wasn't fair for me to have a happy life after they were gone.

Not to mention the fact that, like my family, he would just die. The game with the shadow was still a foot as long as she lived, and thus, the people she let herself be around, let herself love would always be in danger. I tried desperately to not see the numbers on his own chest, I didn't want that type of knowledge, this type of gift any longer. Not that I ever did, but it did come in handy when I wanted to creep someone out. Could I honestly live a normal happy ordinary life? Suddenly I felt a soft warmness on my shoulders, and there he was, Bruce Wayne, playboy billionaire in all his glory, giving me some comfort? I could only look up to meet his confused gaze, and surely, he didn't know if he was doing whatever he was attempting to do right."Hey, you don't have to decide now. Of course, I want you to really think about it. I know what it's like you know. To loose your family. So, one step at a time right" his words were reassuring, yet they held an awkwardness to them. I saw that awkwardness sometimes when I was alone with a boy teacher, or if I had to meet a friend's/classmates father. Men that didn't have daughters of their own had no clue.

"Ahahahahaha" I couldn't stop myself from bursting out into a little fit of giggles and laughter, something I hadn't done in a really long time. I wasn't completely better yet, but I was starting to feel like myself again. Of course, myself was usually cynical, depressive, sarcastic, somber, moody etc. etc. But I liked to laugh, really I did. Usually it was deranged unless I was with Nadaly, but I loved it none the less. I didn't care what the joke was, whom the joke was directed at, what it's content was, I mostly found anything funny really. Sometimes in class, I'd think about something that had particularly made me ting in the pits of my stomach, and it was so hard to keep in the cackles that built up in my throat. Surely enough, within minutes, they were out and about, earning glares from my teachers, and making my classmates wonder just what in the hell was wrong with me. Likewise, Mr. Wayne looked astonished really. Slowly though, he let himself loosen his reigns, once he saw I was alright that is, and then he was letting out a chuckle here and then himself.

"Mr. Wayne, I can't wait to go home" I said, mustering up a smile, and it wasn't completely fake really. Part of me, the part that wasn't flaring alarms of danger wanted this new adventure.

"Please Labyrinth. Call me Bruce" he said, reaching out his hand as if it was the first time we had met.

"Alright then, Bruce."

* * *

So, here I was, waiting on the hospital bed for Mr. Wayne to come pick me up to be taken to my new home. I was bored out of my mind, and had a bit of time to kill, so I hit the internet. Of course, my new found interest was also the source of my anxiety:my new family. I spent hours a day looking up things about my new family, hoping to have any question I might have answered before I got there. I didn't want to be a needy girl, the girl I was feeling more and more like everyday now. I felt so selfish, so self-centered that I was sick. I kept this hidden, but it was hard. It wasn't terrible really, but when I started thinking about how horrible I was for the way I felt, not to mention what I was keeping from Mr. Wayne, I couldn't help but hate myself. So, naturally, being the teenage girl that I was, my self inflicted sickness came in the form of an eating disorder. I couldn't eat much, and when I managed to keep some food down my stomach, it usually wasn't much. The nurse that frequented my room, a pretty little brunette in her mid twenties I'm sure, took notice, but I persuaded her that it was just warning signs that I was going to get my period soon. I'm not even sure that is even a legitimate thing, but luckily, she didn't seem to know either.

Mr. Wayne came at about four in the evening. I heard the small sound of his footsteps, which I had to strain to listen for, because for a big man, he was incredibly light on his feet. The familiarity of the squeak of the door knob send a new sensation of anticipation through me. Each second that it took for the door to open I could feel a new bead of sweat forming on my forehead.

"Labyrinth, I trust you're ready to go?" came the deep voice of Mr. Wayne.

"Course I am Mr. Wayne" I replied nonchalantly. Little did he know that the night before, I spent endless amounts of time making sure that I had what little things I did possess, reminding myself of proper etiquette, of things I shouldn't do or say, things I needed to let him be aware of. Things like that.

"Please Labyrinth, I thought we went over this? Call me Bruce" he said, a slight scolding edge to his voice, but the twinkle in his eyes let me know that he wasn't angry. I'm sure I'd know when he was really angry, if he ever did get angry at me.

"Right, sorry Mr- sorry Bruce" I managed. He sent a scolding look in my direction, but he merely picked up the small suitcase I had (the things I had with me on the day of the explosion) and opened the door once again.

"Come on, we should get going now. Unless that is, you want to say your goodbyes to this place" he said, knowing I would jump out the window to be free of the hospital. I would too.

So I just nodded my head as I let myself be lead out of the hospital room, careful to keep a good pace behind the billionare. As soon as we exited the building however, a million flashes of light blinded me momentarily and I lost my footing. Sounds became incoherent noises and there were white spots in my vision. It was all frantic really. And then I was clawed at by people I assumed, all wanting something I didn't know what from me. I looked around frantically looking for Mr. Wayne, but luckily I didn't need to look for him, because he found me. He had this steely look in his eyes and his jaw was clenched so tightly I was wondering how it didn't break off. Once again, I had a feeling that this wasn't the man who was with me just moments ago in that hospital room, but someone else posing as him."Let's get you to the car" his voice came out in a gruff, more like a growl really, and I was being shoved into a vintage limo, Mr. Wayne smiling ever so charmingly at all the cameras flashing at us. There was movement beneath me, and soon the flashes of the cameras faded, as well as the vulturous people.

"You alright?" he asked casually, not quite back in character yet.

"I'm fine" my voice came out icier than I meant for it too, but I too felt myself dissolving back into my old somber self.

He took it though, obviously not wanting to engage in a conversation at the moment, and I was fine with that. I felt myself growing angry for some reason. I felt fooled, like a giant idiot really. But now wasn't the time for such anger, because really, the man had done nothing wrong. Just me being my typical crazy self again.

After about an hour, the limo turned up a road that strayed from the main one up a lonesome hill that I knew overlooked Gotham City. From all my extensive reading you can bet. It wasn't long before we came to two giant Gothic looking gates, and inside resided a colossal mansion, also of the Gothic fashion. Everything about the mansion was gloriously intricate, and I felt, that maybe such a house, one that I'd dreamed about many a time before, would be too big for a girl like me, use to living with seven other people in a little two bedroom apartment. A pang went through my chest as I recalled waking up every morning to Nadaly, covering her up and waking her if I felt she was having a nightmare, or snuggling up next to her when I myself had one and was too prideful to admit it. I couldn't help my eyeballs from popping out of my head still though at its enormity.

"Welcome home Labyrinth" Mr. Wayne breathed out as he made his way out of the limo to fetch my bags, along with the help of the older limo driver whom I recognized as Alfred Pennyworth (of course from the internet), of whom I was surely going to be acquainted with later no?

"Yeah, home" I mumbled to myself, not really sure at all, if I could ever really call this place home.

-End, For now.

* * *

A/N: I feel really crappy about this chapter for whatever reason, and I'm not at all happy with it, but I can't figure out what it is that's bothering me. Anyways, you know the drill, Rate and Review for quicker updates, and fav's and follows also make me happy (:

Thank you,

Labyrinth.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Batman, the batman series, anything that has to do with batman or any other d.c character. All I own is my OC.

There are links to the Wayne manor on my profile, I don't own those images, but they're a nice reference if you want to look up the layout of the mansion.

Also, I'm back in school now, so I'm not going to be able to get these out as fast, but I'll let you know, I don't plan to disappear off the face of the earth, I quite enjoy this story. If I don't post as often or as soon, well, tough, because school comes first, so please don't get mad, because either way, it won't change anything.

_I didn't make you know how glad I was  
To have you come and camp here on our land.  
I promised myself to get down some day  
And see the way you lived, but I don't know!  
With a houseful of hungry men to feed  
I guess you'd find... It seems to me  
I can't express my feelings any more  
Than I can raise my voice or want to lift..._

_-Robert Frost_

* * *

You ever feel like something's too good to be true? Like one day you'll wake up, and that good thing you have in your grasp, will disappear, and you'll realize, it was just a good dream all along? Or how about waking up from a nightmare, only to realize it wasn't a dream, and you're living your nightmare? Can you tell the difference between fantasy and reality? Because it's getting harder and harder for me to decipher the two of them apart. And then there's always that horrible horrible thought, the one that takes you to the brink of insanity, that threatens to throw you off that cliff and drown you in the stormy waves at the bottom. Is this your dream, your nightmare, or is it someone else's?

* * *

"This is the first floor to the mansion" Alfred, the butler, whom I hadn't been formally introduced to yet, was explaining layout of the manor. I made a note to myself to pay close attention to his words, because knowing myself, I didn't have the best sense of direction, and would probably loose myself trying to find the kitchen or something like that. He pointed out various room such as the East Rotunda, and the West Rotunda, the billiard room, the arcade loggia, the breakfast room, the dining room, the small library, and various other rooms I couldn't remember.

"So, do you feel that you're well acquainted with the first floor?" Alfred asked me. Honestly, the man made feel out of place more than I knew I was. He was so proper in his etiquette and manner, much like Mr. Wayne was, but he was like a professional on a larger scale. I felt like if I did something wrong, it'd be a bother on him more than anyone else, though I knew that it was just all in my head. What was more, was, he was the person that catered to the inhabitants of the mansion's needs. Well, I wasn't used to being catered to, or not doing things by myself, and having another person do them for me, it was just unheard of in my book. I had the uncanny feeling though, that I had better start getting used to it.

"I'm sure I'll get the hang of it eventually" I replied to him, which earned me a sympathetic look from the butler. Okay, so maybe I was just over reacting on the him making me feel out of place thing.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, we ended up losing Master Richard several times when he tried to find his way back up to his room from dinner" he leaned into my ear, whispering as if it was a secret.

"Didn't know you were one for loose lips Al!" A low rumbling laugh followed this statement, causing the butler to paint a smile on his own face. I could only assume that Richard was the source of the voice that was just emitted. My nerves started bundling up in my stomach. Pride kept me from acting on them though, and I remained aloof as a hand gently gripped my left shoulder. I turned around to meet a pair of blue eyes, much like Mr. Wayne's, except these blue eyes weren't as harsh, similarly though, they held that bright twinkle in them, though I could place what the twinkle was at the moment in his eyes. It was curiosity, and maybe even excitement?

"So, you're my new little sister huh?" his voice was gentler now, much less voluminous from the loud eruption it was only moments ago. Then he took me in, scanned me all over as if he was looking for something, and finally, his eyes found there way to mine, and he held me there for what seemed like forever. His ice blue piercing eyes. My deep brown ones. I can remember now, I was holding my breath for those moments, my heart for some reason was doing somersaults over and over again with anxiety. I can remember denying myself the thoughts _please, let him like me. Please, please, please..._

His gaze was serious and whatever he was looking for, well, I'm not sure if he found it or not, but he relaxed, let out a sigh, and then that big smile was back on his face. "Well, it sure stinks that I got such a pretty new sister. I would have waited a year or two for you" he winked at me, and I could feel my face heating up. I hated it, because I knew my face would give me away as crimson hues took hold over it, voiding my cool demeanor.

"I assure you, he isn't always such a doofus" yet another new voice entered my ears, and I felt a slight agitation that people were coming to get a good look at the new member of the family. "Just most of the time."

"I'm wounded, I was just trying to make our little sister feel at ease" Richard feigned his hurt, putting his arm over his eyes, then he let out another short laugh and went to mess up Tim's hair. Tim in return, let out a tch! sound and punched Richard in the arm, though not with the intention to hurt him I'm sure, but still, hard enough to make it hurt a bit. Richard frowned before tackling the Tim to the ground. The two of them fell to the floor, and Tim struggled underneath Richards superior weight. "Not so tough now are you" he gloated down at his little brother, a haughty grin plastered on his face.

"I could take you any time, any day of the week, you neanderthal" Tim grunted out. His legs wrapped themselves around the lower half of Richards' body. Richards' eyes widened as he realized what Tim was going to do, and before he could get up, Tim used the strength in his legs to throw Richard of of himself. Richard toppled to the ground, a smile still on his face, but it was evident in his eyes that he wanted to get even.

"Why you little-" he was cut off though.

"I see the two of you have introduced yourselves to your new little sister" Mr. Wayne came down from the large stair case to the left of us. His smile I knew, was directed to me, his scolding tone, directed to my new siblings. My heart ached at the realization. I had new siblings. Well, not yet of course, but they acted as if I was already a member of the family, it was comforting and horrendous all at the same time. _I don't want this! _A defiant voice in the back of my head screamed at me, but there was another voice fighting it, yelling back _Yes, we do! We deserve this! _As Mr. Wayne approached, he seemed to sense my distress.

"Why don't you give Labyrinth a break, it's only the first night and you two can't behave yourselves" he again scolded the two boys.

"Aw Bruce, we were just having some fun" came Richards lighthearted voice.

"Tch! Speak for yourself" Tim added with a voice full of irritation.

"Well it doesn't matter. Tonight's about Labyrinth, not you two" his voice was flat as he said this, obviously his dead serious tone or something like that, because both of them stood up and had a particular reaction to this tone of voice. Richard rolled his eyes, like he had heard it too many times to care anymore. Tim on the other hand, stood upright and nodded his head ever so slightly, but there was the slightest detection of sarcasm in this motion, like he just wanted to change topics now.

"Sorry" both mumbled out in unison.

Mr. Wayne nodded his head once before turning to Alfred."I already put Labyrinth's things in her room. It's the guest room across from stair case" he instructed the aged butler.

"Wish I could have gotten that room. Being next to the stair case would have been convenient. Maybe then I wouldn't have gotten loss looking for my room so often. I don't know, what do you think?" Richard was starting again. It seemed he had a knack for this type of thing, because Mr. Wayne threw him a look that was met with more laughter.

"Indeed" Alfred agreed, also smiling. "Now then, Miss Labyrinth, if you will. This way please" as he started escorting me up the staircase, welcoming words followed me up.

"See you at dinner sis!" Richard.

"Maybe now I'll have a normal sibling" Tim.

There was silence, then muttered words which I vaguely caught as "We have work to do."

* * *

"I'll trust that all your things have made their way appropriately, though I would double check of course just in case. Well then Madam, until dinner. And I'll come to get you of course as to not creating another incident similar to that of Master Richard's" there was an amusement in his voice as he recalled the memory to himself. I smiled at him awkwardly, appreciating his help. I was thankful though, when he left, leaving me time to take everything in. I walked about what would be my new room. It was plain in the utmost use of the word, yet to me, it was still one of the most beautiful rooms I had ever seen. The walls were painted gray, and were devoid of any sort of decoration. The vanity which was placed to the left wall was of white coloring, that matched the white king sized bed that was placed in the center of the middle wall of the room. There was a book case, also white, placed right to the bed. And of course, the standard closet was there as well.

I was grateful for the beautiful room, yet the lack of personality made it feel as it was, a guest bedroom. I was a guest. My mood switched so suddenly then. I wasn't appreciative of my solitude any longer, and found myself craving the presence of another person so badly I could have killed for it. Being left alone with my thoughts wasn't the best thing in the world for me, I learned that long ago.

But I was never really alone. And that was the scary thing. Paranoia took over me. My eyes flicked across the room, wary of the shadows that the little furniture in the room created. It wasn't here though, at least not just yet, or most likely, it just didn't want to make itself known to me yet. That did nothing for me though, because if it wasn't detectable, then it was plotting. I curled myself up into my knees, hiding myself. I was scared. I was so scared. Scared of that presence, scared of my new home, scared of my new feelings, scared of forgetting, and scared of myself.

I stayed like that, left alone with my own deranged thoughts for what seemed like hours. It probably was so too. Cynical tormenting thoughts plagued my mind. That voice was there again, along with many new patronizing ones now. _You don't deserve this! It'll be your fault if they die! They're going to die because of your selfishness! Your family died because of you! Do you honestly think you'll ever be happy?! _

Screams threatened to erupt from my throat. Loud and deranged, I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep them from at bay. A knock at the door had me wiping my eyes and calming my breathing. "Come in" my voice was surprisingly calm, to my surprise.

"Dinner is ready. I trust you're ready?" Alfred said as he opened the door slowly, cautiously. Well, it was probably different having a girl in the house now.

"I'm ready" I said as I made my way out of the room, quickly at that, and accompanied him out and down to the dining room. We walked in a comfortable silence, and as we came into the room, a strong aroma of delicious smells filled my nostrils, making my mouth water.

I was left to pick my own seat, which was just fine by me, as there was only one seat to choose. I noticed then, that there was also only one plate placed at the table, right in front of the chair. A tightness formed in my throat, for reasons I couldn't place at the time.

"Where is Mr. Wayne and the boys?" I asked Alfred as he walked in to bring the ice tea that was to go with my dinner of grilled chicken with a pasta salad on the side.

"I'm afraid Mr. Wayne and the boys had an urgent business to attend to. They won't be able to eat dinner with you tonight, I'm sorry" he aplogized.

"It's fine, really" he smiled down at me, his eyes held a knowing sadness. He nodded once before starting to depart as well.

"Are you not going to eat?" I asked him. My face heated up with how desperate my voice came out.

His face was sympathetic as he turned to face me. "I don't eat with the family, I am your servant, so if you need anything, merely ring the bell. I'll be nearby" he stated. And then he left me by myself, true to his word. There was indeed a bell placed to the side of my plate, and that paranoia started coming back to me. It was fine, I told myself. It was just this once. I learned later that it wouldn't be just once that I would eat alone, but a regular thing. And there would be no escaping my solitude, my loneliness. God, I hated how weak I had become in a matter of weeks, days.

Was I not the girl who lived through poverty, lived with drug addict father, the psychopath of a mother, lived without a roof to her name, produced various meals for her siblings, never knew a true friend, who loved staying locked up in her room away from the real world to live in worlds which she ( and another) created. What happened to that girl, and who was this needy one?

I knew the answer to the question. She was killed along with her family, and what lived of her was the little girl who never got to live.

When I finished my meal, I felt even worse than when I had first left my room, so I didn't feel scared to go back to it. I surprised myself as I made my way up the stairwell and to the room I had been assigned. I stripped myself of my clothes and into one of the new night gowns that was placed in the closet for me ( along with various other things that a girl would need. Points to whoever had to go shopping for the 'girl stuff'). As I went to lay down, I noticed that on the window seal of my window, there was a vase full of roses. They were beautiful, and I concentrated on the falling petals, counting them to make myself fall asleep. I wasn't going to otherwise, I knew. So I counted the petals of the dying flowers until I succumbed to darkness. It was a pity that all beautiful things had to die eventually. I vaguely wondered when their time would run out as I closed my eyes to night, and awaited their opening to day.

-End, For now.

* * *

A/N: Again, sorry it took so long to post, and sorry it's so short. I'm not too happy with this chapter either for whatever reason. Let me know what you guys think of the story. Review please, and fav's and follows are also loved.

-Labyrinth


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